


Hooded Hawk

by Not_You



Series: Watching [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blindfolds, M/M, Multi, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to 'Watch You, Watch Me' that also fills a kinkmeme prompt that I have, again, lost.  Anyway, Phil blindfolds Clint and they put on a show for Fury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hooded Hawk

Clint has a love-hate relationship with being blindfolded. It scares him, but surrendering his best sense, the thing that keeps him alive and gives him his purpose, to Phil does things to him that he still can't adequately describe. Now he's kneeling on the rug, hyperaware of how rough-soft it is because he can't see anything and listening to Phil's nearly-inaudible breathing. He's already hard, and flushes all over as the door opens, a gentle current of cool air washing over him.

"You're a bit late, Nick."

"You knew I might be." He comes closer, and suddenly Clint can feel the cold, heavy edge of his coat as he paces a tight circle around him. "Damn, our boy's pretty."

Clint whimpers, the sound high and sharp and way more fucking naked than being naked. His flush deepens, and he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. He reflexively draws his knees together, and Phil gently slaps his shoulder with what must be a riding crop.

"None of that. We want to look at you."

"Yes, sir," Clint breathes, in a soft and meek voice that he doesn't recognize, spreading his legs again. He jumps and whines as Fury touches his face, the pads of his fingertips warm and dry.

"All this from blindfolding?"

"Yes."

"Like hooding a hawk." His fingertips move to Clint's lips, and Clint opens his mouth to take them in, moaning softly as they slide along his tongue. "I think I like you like this, Barton." Clint quivers and whines, groaning as Fury's fingers press deeper into his mouth and mewling in disappointment when he withdraws them. "Hush. I want to watch you."

Clint bites his lip, feeling almost tearful. "Easy," Phil says, stroking his hair and resting a heavy hand on the back of his neck, grounding him in his need. "Up on your hands and knees, sweetheart." Clint shifts into the desired position, whimpering as Phil's firm, gentle hands push his knees apart and press down on his back, arching it and making Clint present himself. He whines and squirms, able to feel Fury's gaze on him. And then slick fingers are sliding over and over his hole, teasing him and pressing hard up behind his balls in that spot that always makes him shake and whine through his gritted teeth. Phil knows exactly where to touch him, fingertips gentle and inexorable, grinding in little circles but never actually dipping into him, no matter desperate he gets or how much he bucks.

"Phil, Phil please, I can't…" He's writhing now, elbows planted on the floor, head hanging as he shoves back, trying to catch even one of Phil's teasing fingertips. "Please, please…"

"Should I, Nick?" Phil purrs, his other hand rubbing Clint's back soothingly.

"Yes."

"Would you like to help?" Fury has gotten a bit better about touching and being touched, but has still limited himself to kissing and groping.

"Please sir, please sir," Clint gasps, resting his forehead on the floor and moaning as Phil squeezes his cock. "Please, sir, please touch me, fuck, someone, I need it, I can't—" he chokes on a sob and mewls helplessly as Phil pushes two fingers into him, mouth hanging open as they stroke him right where he needs it, rubbing and pressing and taking even the begging out of his mouth. And then Fury's coat rustles, and his weight settles onto the floor beside Clint. Clint whimpers, and then cries out as Fury slides two long fingers in beside Phil's. "Ohfuck," he gasps, "oh fuck, sir, yesss…" He groans as they start to fuck him in earnest, legs quivering as their joined hands drive harder and harder. He knots his hands into the carpet, feeling like he's clinging to the edge of a cliff. He gets so close and then they stop, leaving him choked and panting on the very edge, tears in his eyes. He shakes and pants, struggling to maintain control as Phil rubs his back and tells him what a good boy he is.

"Hush, we'll let you come when the time is right. Now, follow me." Phil gets a loose grip on the back of his neck, and Clint lets him lead him over to a chair. The sound of Phil's zipper makes him salivate like a trained dog and he whimpers like one as well, fumbling his way to Phil's cock and then taking it into his mouth. "Fuuuck…" Phil whispers, and Clint moans around the heavy length in his mouth, crooning softly when Phil strokes his hair and ruts gently into his mouth, murmuring filthy encouragement, telling Clint how good he looks on his knees and how intently Fury is watching them. Clint moans and takes Phil as deep as he can, swallowing and swallowing until he can nuzzle wiry pubic hair and drown in Phil's scent. 

He actually zones out, sucking Phil's cock and drooling, hands laced behind his back the instant Phil tells him to, and has no idea how long it has been when Phil finally pulls him off. Clint chases the tip for a moment, then lets Phil push him onto his back, legs falling open of their own accord. He loves being fucked by Phil. Being on the bottom has never been this good before, and it probably has something to do with Phil waiting until Clint feels like he could come from breathing too deeply before slicking up and sliding into him. He can hear the lube this time, and groans, spreading even wider and crying out when Phil grabs him under both knees and hoists his ass up.

"A hand, Nick?"

Clint groans so loud it startles him when he registers Fury's presence close beside him, and the sound just keeps going as he feels that butter-soft glove against his balls as Fury guides Phil in. Phil shudders and grinds as deeply into Clint as he can get. Even blindfolded, Clint can feel Fury's one-eyed gaze as he watches Phil fuck Clint so slow and so hard. Clint screams when he comes, and Fury is there to swallow the sound, trembling and holding Clint's face in those deadly gloved hands. Coming is just part of everything else, a wave of feeling even better rather than a discrete spike of pleasure, and he groans into Fury's mouth as it goes on and Phil comes inside him and everything is perfect.

Clint naps for a while afterward, dimly aware of the others petting and bathing him. Finally Phil undoes the blindfold, letting Clint blink back to normalcy in a dim room, Phil on one side and Fury on the other, snuggling close and telling him how beautiful and perfect he was for them.


End file.
